


Both Ways Is the Only Way I Like It

by ChancellorGriffin



Series: Welcome to the Rare Pair Trash Bin, Population: ME [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, F/F, Handcuffs, Improvised Sex Toys, Lesbian Sex, Object Penetration, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Prison, Psychological Torture, Weapons Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 02:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7341388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChancellorGriffin/pseuds/ChancellorGriffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during S2e03, "Reapercussions."  After she's caught passing weapons to the kids and helping them escape camp to go look for Clarke, Abby is locked in the brig.  In the hopes of avoiding having to execute the camp's best doctor, Chancellor Kane sends Major Byrne to interrogate her and obtain a confession . . . with no idea of the tangled, messy past that lies between the two women.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Both Ways Is the Only Way I Like It

Major Byrne entered the brig and closed the door behind her.  A dim shaft of light from the lone window in the ceiling shone dustily into the center of the floor, leaving the room’s sole prisoner half buried in shadow where she stood handcuffed to the back wall.  Her head was bent, thick golden-brown hair draped in a tangled curtain around her face, but it wasn’t a posture of supplication or repentance.  She was simply, as Byrne observed as she drew closer, stretching out her shoulders and neck.

She had stood there, arms bound to the wall above her head, for three hours.  Chancellor Kane knew the Exodus Charter inside and out and thus knew this was a crime punishable by execution, but he had persuaded Major Byrne that if the criminal could be convinced to make a public confession to the rest of camp, to set an example for the others, that they might find a way to avoid putting their only doctor in front of a firing squad.

(Or something even more gruesome, perhaps - since, without Factory Station, the conservation of bullets as a finite, nonrenewable resource was suddenly a factor he had to consider.)

Chancellor Kane did not want to kill the prisoner, but he was also curiously reluctant to torture a confession out of her, which seemed to Byrne by far their most straightforward route.  So it was her instead, stepping inside the dim, gray brig, dismissing all the other guards, locking the door behind her, and passing through that lone shaft of light back into the shadows where that tangled curtain of hair lifted at the sound of her footsteps and a face suddenly appeared.

“Handcuffs?” Abigail Griffin said with a skeptical raised eyebrow.  "Was this _really_ necessary?”

Major Byrne felt an instant surge of irritation pulse through her.  Nothing about the doctor’s demeanor indicated anything except a mild vexation at this inconvenience.

“Chancellor Kane’s orders,” she answered stiffly.  “Since you clearly can’t be trusted around anyone with a weapon.”

“Is he afraid I’m going to knock you out and steal the shocklash off your belt?” asked Abby with a raised eyebrow.  “Or are _you_?”

Byrne did not trust herself to respond right away, but pulled up a chair to sit down across from the metal wall panel where the prisoner stood.  The two women regarded each other thoughtfully, neither one willing to back down.

She decided to try reasoning with her first.

“This could be over in minutes if you wanted it to be,” said Byrne, in a voice that was almost polite.  Abby was silent.  “You broke the law, and there are consequences.  The Chancellor is trying to keep the peace.” 

Still nothing, of course.  Abby Griffin rarely responded well to cold hard reason.  She was impulsive, emotional, irresponsible.  Brilliant, sure, even Byrne had to admit that, but with this way about her of simply looking your facts in the eye and saying: _No._   _No, thank you.  I’m not interested.  I’ll be doing this my own way._

“A public confession and apology,” said Byrne, her voice a little harder this time.  “That’s all.  And you’re banned from handling weapons or firearms, obviously.”  Abby didn’t speak, just raised an eyebrow, and Byrne felt her blood begin to boil.  She wasn’t afraid, or contrite.  She didn’t even believe she had done anything wrong.  She looked merely impatient, as if Byrne was wasting both their time.

“You realize your actions probably put your daughter, and others, in more danger,” said Byrne, and Abby's jaw clenched at the words but she didn’t take this bait either.  “Those kids you gave the guns to?  They have no training, no expertise.  They went off into the woods unsupervised.  If something happens, it’s on your conscience.  I hope you know that.”

“It’s been a long day, Major,” said Abby wearily.  “If you’re going to execute me, would you mind just doing it and getting it over with?”

Byrne swallowed hard and clenched her fists, struggling to remain calm.  There was no compromise with Abby Griffin, once she got a notion into her head.  That was what made her annoying – that itchy, infuriating way she got under your skin, flustered you, made you lose your composure, while you tried to reason her out of something she’d already stubbornly set her mind to – but it wasn’t what made her dangerous. 

What made her dangerous was the thing Byrne had begun, bit by bit, to see happening to Chancellor Kane. 

What made her dangerous was the way she got into your head.

It was certainly possible to dislike Abby Griffin – Lord knows Byrne did – but it was impossible to dismiss or ignore her.

“Tell me what you did with the guns, Dr. Griffin,” Byrne snapped, her voice harsh to cover up her discomfort.  Why did this damn woman put her so off-balance?

“Aren’t I here because you _know_ what I did with the guns?” Abby observed patiently.

“You need to say it.  On record, to an official witness.  Standard protocol from the Exodus Charter.” She stood up, then, and walked over to stand very close to Abby, meeting her gaze directly.  “All you have to do is confess,” she said, “and this could be over.”

“Confessing is for people who think they did something wrong,” said Abby simply.  “I can’t do that.  It would be a lie.”

“It would save your neck.”

“Well, so be it then,” Abby shrugged, and Byrne was stunned at the white heat of anger that flowed through her at Abby’s cavalier refusal to be even the faintest bit afraid.

“You haven’t changed a bit in twenty years,” said Byrne, the hint of a sneer in her voice, and Abby looked up at her, eyes searching and steady.

“Oh,” said Abby, as though Byrne had given her the answer to a question Byrne didn’t remember asking.  “I see.  That’s what this is about.”

“I’m doing my job,” said Byrne stiffly, unexpectedly rattled by the comprehension in Abby’s tone. 

“If you say so,” Abby conceded, and Byrne was so furious she wanted to wring her neck.

“You’re _selfish_ ,” Byrne snapped, surprising both of them with her forcefulness, and it worked.  It changed something in the air between them, and for a moment – just for a moment – she had Abby’s full attention, with something inside her eyes that looked a little bit like unease.

“Am I?” Abby asked quietly, the flippant tone gone out of her voice, and Byrne felt a wave of relief at having regained the high ground.  She was in charge once again.

“You knew that under the Exodus Charter, what you did was a felony that could get you executed,” she said.  “But you did it anyway.  Refusing to save your own skin out of sheer stubbornness.  Even though your people need you, because you’re the best doctor we have.  I call that selfish.”

Abby tilted her head, looked straight at Byrne, and the infuriating little ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, that shadow of unease gone from her eyes, and Byrne realized she’d gone wrong somewhere.  She’d had her, for a moment she’d had Abby Griffin in the palm of her hand, “selfish” had struck a chord - but she’d swung wide and missed.

“’The best doctor we have,’” Abby repeated.  “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.”

“You can’t charm me, Dr. Griffin,” said Byrne heatedly.  “I'm immune.  Lord knows it works on everybody else, you’ve got the whole world under your spell, you have to make everyone fall in love with you.”

The shadow of unease flickered back into Abby’s eyes.  “That’s unfair.”

“And now you’ve got Chancellor Kane.”

Abby started, eyes snapping open wide in surprise, and Byrne felt a tiny surge of triumph.  It was the first real reaction she had gotten, the first substantial crack in Abby’s cool, distant expression.

 _“Kane?”_ she repeated in astonishment.  “That’s absurd.”

Byrne shrugged.  “Play dumb if you want to,” she said casually, “it doesn’t matter to me. But someone should tell him,” she added.  “He should know.  The people who fall in love with you tend to wind up dead.”

“That’s awful,” Abby whispered, unable to keep her voice from cracking.  “What an awful thing to say.”

“Deny it, then,” said Byrne.  “Tell me it isn’t true.”

Abby was silent.

“I think you see more than you claim to see,” said Byrne thoughtfully.  “I think we both know the reason I’m here instead of him.”

“Do we?”

“Yes,” said Byrne softly, dangerously, moving in close and feeling her heart beat faster as she watched Abby’s breath quicken just a tiny bit.  “Because he doesn’t want to hurt you.  He’s not sure he could bring himself to do it.”

“But you don’t mind,” Abby whispered, and Byrne shook her head.

“Far from it,” said Byrne.  “I’d _love_ to.”

“So this is about hurting me back,” said Abby.  “I wondered.”  Byrne did not respond.  “You know, don’t you,” she went on, “that I never meant to.”

Byrne laughed, a short guttural laugh.  “You never _mean_ to,” she sneered.  “You just do whatever you want, damn the rules, and the rest of us either go along with it or get run over if we can’t get out of the way.”

“That’s not fair.”

“You’re a runaway freight train, Abby,” said Byrne, and something in the air shifted as she said her name for the first time.  “You’ll knock down anyone or anything that gets between you and what you want, and the rest of us are just collateral damage.”

“What a terrible thing to think of me,” said Abby gently, “what a terrible thing I must have done to deserve that,” and there was something like _compassion_ in her voice that made everything so much worse.

“You always think you get to make your own rules.  You don’t care who you hurt.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I didn’t know that I hurt you, Alexandra,” she said softly and Byrne froze at the sound of her name.  “I thought – I didn’t know you wanted more from me than what we had.  You never said.  I thought we both wanted it to just be . . . what it was.”

“Did you really believe that?  Or did you just _want_ to believe that?”

“You never asked me for more,” said Abby.  “You never asked me for anything.  I was twenty.  I didn’t know.  I didn’t know until after, when I was with Jake.  When I began to wonder why it felt like suddenly you hated me.”  Her eyes were warm and gentle, and Byrne could not look away from them.  “We were twenty then,” she repeated softly.  “We’re forty now.  It was half a lifetime ago, Alexandra.  That’s such a long time to hold onto things that only give us pain.  You’ve hated me for half a lifetime.  But we’re on Earth now, things are different now, maybe we could leave those people we were on the Ark behind.  Maybe down here, you don’t have to hate me.”  Her arms moved reflexively, like she wanted to reach out for Byrne, but couldn’t, so instead she stepped forward, bringing them a little closer.  And for a moment, just a moment, the cold iron wall inside Alexandra Byrne shifted in place just a little, leaving one lone narrow crack of empty space, and Abby tilted her head again to regard her thoughtfully, like she might be about to step through it. 

 _Do your job, Major,_ she suddenly heard the voice of Thelonious Jaha in her mind – the voice of the Chancellor she had served under for years, who taught her everything she knew about how to swallow those emotions back down and put them away, how to be focused and disciplined and strong.  _Jaha would not soften here,_ she thought to herself. _Kane would not soften here.  Neither will I._

But it made her hate Abby Griffin a little more, how easy it was for her to find every vulnerability in Alexandra Byrne’s defenses. 

“You’re doing it again,” she snapped.  “You’re doing it _again._   You want to wipe out the consequences of your actions and start over.  Because you think you’re entitled to the kind of fresh starts the rest of us don’t get.”

“No,” said Abby in confusion, “that wasn’t – I didn’t mean – “

“It’s Callie Cartwig all over again,” said Byrne, knowing it was a dirty shot but unable to help herself, and the look of horror on Abby’s bruised, dirt-streaked face made it all worth it once she realized she’d finally found a weakness.  A real one. 

“Please don’t, Alexandra,” she whispered.  “Please don’t do this.”

“Abby Walters and Callie Cartwig,” sneered Byrne.  “The princesses of the Ark.  The golden couple.  Brilliant and beautiful and perfect in every way.  And the rest of us were just dirt under your feet.”

“That’s not fair.”

“But you got tired of being doted on, didn’t you?” Byrne whispered, and even though Abby’s face barely reacted she could tell, with a surge of triumph, that she’d struck a chord.  “You were _exhausted_ from how much Callie adored you.  You wanted someone who could hold their own, who could push back.”

“Stop it,” whispered Abby, with the faintest tremble in her voice, and Byrne felt alive, powerful, incandescent, because _she was winning._ Abby Griffin was no longer the one in control.

“Callie was your first love, and she worshiped you, but you don’t _want_ to be worshiped, do you, Abby?  You like to fight.  You like people who aren’t afraid of you.”  She moved in a little bit closer.  “Callie was too soft,” she whispered, “and you like it rough.”  Abby closed her eyes. “That’s why you came to me, wasn’t it?” she said softly, dangerously.  “You broke it off with Callie because you didn’t want it sweet and gentle anymore.  You wanted something else.”

“Yes,” Abby whispered, almost against her will, eyes pressed tightly closed.

“You wanted somebody to do things to you that Callie wouldn’t do.”

“I . . . I wanted – “ 

But she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“You can’t fool me, Abby,” said Byrne in a low, hard voice.  “You’ve always been able to fool everyone else, but not me.  You broke Callie Cartwig’s heart and left her sobbing in the middle of a hallway and walked straight to my door.”

“I didn’t know it would hurt her like that,” Abby said sadly.  “I thought she knew.  I thought she knew it wasn’t working.  Between us.  That it didn’t feel . . . the way I thought it was supposed to feel.  That I loved her, but it wasn’t enough.  The other thing wasn’t there.”

“It was there for Callie.”

“I was nineteen.  I didn’t know that then.  I didn’t know.”

“You knew enough,” said Byrne.  “You knew what you wanted.”  She traced a fingertip up the soft skin of the underside of Abby’s arms to gently stroke the band of hard plastic that bound Abby’s wrists together.  “You like it like this,” she murmured. “You like it when someone else is in control.”

“Stop it.”

 “Callie was soft and sweet,” said Byrne, a note of derision creeping into her voice.  “She probably asked permission every time she kissed you.  Her hands probably trembled.  But you wanted something else, didn’t you, Abby?  You wanted to be _fucked.”_

“This has nothing to do with anything, Alexandra, please don’t – “

“You wanted to be fucked,” she said again harshly. “You wanted someone to throw you against the wall and make you scream.  You wanted to come so hard it made you see stars.  You wanted things Callie couldn’t give you.”  She ran a fingertip over the soft strip of bare skin visible where the hem of Abby’s shirt rose up above the waistband of her jeans, and smiled as Abby shivered.  “But I gave you those things,” she whispered.  “I gave you what you wanted.”

“You gave me half of what I wanted,” Abby said suddenly, sharply, staring down at her, pulling away, taking control back.  “You didn’t understand that I wanted the tenderness too.  I wanted to be loved, too.  I needed both.”

“You don’t think I could have given you that?” Byrne hissed.  “I could have given you that as well as Jake Griffin could.”

“No,” said Abby.  “If it had been the other way around, Jake wouldn’t be standing where you are right now.  No matter how badly I’d broken his heart.  Jake would _never_.”

“Then Jake’s a better man than I am,” shrugged Byrne.  “Didn’t stop you from getting him killed.”

Abby’s eyes flashed with something like fury and she opened her mouth to fire back an angry retort before biting it back, pressing her eyes closed and swallowing it back down.  “No,” she said firmly.  “You’re doing that on purpose.  You’re trying to get me to break.  I won’t.”

“I think you will.”

“You’ve played every card in your hand, Alexandra,” said Abby.  “You’ve used Clarke and Kane and Callie, and now Jake.  You’ve used up everything you came in here with, and I’m still not agreeing to your damn public confession.  You’ve got nothing left.”

“Sure about that?” said Byrne, and then suddenly, startlingly, her hands moving faster than lightning, she had unfastened Abby’s jeans and pulled them open, revealing a triangle of threadbare black cotton panties beneath the faded gray denim.

“What are you doing?” Abby whispered, voice hoarse with shock, and then stared as Byrne stepped back, arms folded.

“Nothing,” said Byrne.  “I’m doing nothing.”

“What – why did – “

“You said I couldn’t get you to break.  But I think I can.”

“How’s that?”

“Because you _want_ me to touch you,” Byrne told her, a wicked gleam in her eye, and Abby was so stunned she couldn’t tear her eyes away.  “You want it.  You still want it.”

“No, I don’t,” Abby murmured, but her voice was hesitant.  She suddenly wasn’t sure anymore.

“Jake Griffin has been dead a long time,” said Byrne.   “How long has it been since somebody fucked you the way you like it?”

“Don’t.”

“Because I know the way you like it.  And I’m right here.”

“Stop it, Alexandra.  Just stop this.”

“I’m right here,” she went on, ignoring Abby, “and I’m ready.  I’m ready to fuck you, Abby, I’m ready to make you scream.  All you have to do is beg for it.”

“That’s never going to happen,” said Abby tightly, fighting hard to keep her voice firm and steady, but Byrne could see, with a surge of triumph, that she was wavering.  There was a shadow of something like fear in her eyes, but there was something else in there too, something that might have been humiliation or shame, covering up something much deeper that Abby was too proud to show.

Byrne gripped the waist of Abby’s jeans – savoring the almost-inaudible little intake of breath as the backs of her fingers brushed Abby’s sensitive skin – and tugged them down around Abby’s ankles in one movement.

“What are you doing?” Abby whispered furiously.

“I’m not going to fuck you until you ask me to,” said Byrne.  “But I just want to check if you’re lying.”

“What,” Abby began, but the words were choked in her mouth by a gasp as Byrne ran one curious, probing finger along the black fabric between Abby’s thighs, lifted it up so Abby could see how wet it was, then put it in her mouth and licked it off.

“Oh God,” Abby whimpered.  “Alexandra . . . please . . . “

“Please what, Abby?”

“I can’t – I need . . . but I can’t –“

“Abby.”

“Don’t make me say it,” she whispered.  Byrne didn’t answer, but unfastened her chest armor and guard jacket, setting them down on the chair, then stripped off the loose, long-sleeved black shirt she wore beneath them, leaving her in a faded black tank top that fit her like a second skin, revealing the impossibly powerful muscles of her arms and the surprisingly soft swell of her breasts plainly visible to Abby, who suddenly couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“This is what it was last time, wasn’t it?” she said, lost so deeply in memory that there was something almost like fondness in her voice.  “When you came up to me in the tavern on Factory Station.  You said you liked my arms.”

“I did,” said Abby.  “I did say that.”

“You liked them a lot that night.”

Yeah.  I did.”

“And a lot of nights after.”

“Twenty years hasn’t changed you that much,” said Abby, her voice a little warmer now too, drawing Byrne back in, back under her spell, pulling her close almost against her will.  “You still look good in that shirt.”

“It’s not the _same shirt_ ,” pointed out Byrne, startled into a faint laugh in spite of herself. 

“It looks just like it,” said Abby, with a faint smile.  “This is how I remember you.”

They looked at each other for a long long time.

“You’re not going to let me go, are you?” Abby asked finally. 

“You liked it when I tied you up before,” Byrne said, something like a dare in her voice, and Abby swallowed hard. 

“Alexandra,” she whispered, then stopped.

“Say it, Abby."

“Fuck me,” Abby said abruptly, the words tumbling out before she could stop herself, but Byrne shook her head. 

“You don’t give me orders,” she said, feeling the surge of triumph, of being in control, rush through her and leave her dizzy with power.  “If you want it, beg.”

Abby pressed her eyes closed.  “Please, Alexandra,” she whimpered softly.  “Please.  Please, please, fuck me.  Please.”

Byrne smiled, pulled her chair up inches away from Abby, sat down, and tugged the threadbare black cotton off Abby’s hips.

“The minute you stop begging me,” she told her, “I stop.”

“Please,” Abby whispered.  “Please.”  And then her whole body arched forward, straining at the plastic cuffs above her head, as suddenly Byrne’s fingers were pressed hard against her clit.  “Oh God,” she gasped as Byrne circled the hard, wet bud over and over, fingers moving in hard rapid circles.  She could feel Abby rouse to her immediately, could hear the thump of her heartbeat and the shallow pant of her breathing, could feel the warmth grow and deepen around her hand.  “Oh God . . . don’t stop, that feels – _oh_ . . . “

When she came, it was light and swift and startling, taking them both by surprise.  She had been hungry, ready, but even Byrne hadn’t realized just _how_ ready.  She gave a soft, faint, fluttering little cry and then subsided, her body relaxing and sinking back against the wall.  _“Oh,”_ she murmured over and over, struggling to catch her breath, and Byrne wondered how long it had been since her body had felt this release.

If she had wanted to be kind, she would have uncuffed Abby after that, let her body ease for just a moment, let her rest.

But she didn’t want to be kind.  She wanted to break her.

So she didn’t stop.

The little bud of Abby’s clit, pulsing and desperately sensitive, throbbed beneath her fingers and Abby’s whole body flinched as Byrne pressed down on it again.  “I can’t – “Abby breathed, but Byrne shook her head.

“Yes, you can,” she reprimanded her.  “I’ve seen you.  You hardly even need a minute to rest between.”

“I was two decades younger then,” said Abby breathlessly.  “I can’t – not like – _oh!_ Oh God, Alexandra, I . . . please . . . oh God, please, right there, right there – “

Byrne pinched the swollen, aching clit between her thumb and forefinger, causing a sharp, startled exclamation of pleasure to burst forth from Abby’s throat.

“There are still guards in the hallway,” Byrne hissed.  “Keep quiet, or I stop.”

“Please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” Abby begged as Byrne’s fingers rubbed tight concentric circles on the soft, tender flesh, now flooded with wetness.  Byrne was patient and persistent, and stayed in that spot until Abby came again, biting her lip and pressing her eyes tightly closed to keep from crying out.  This one was fiercer than the last one, her entire body straining desperately forward away from the wall, trying to capture more.  She didn’t seem to feel the plastic cuffs digging into her wrists, leaving angry red welts in her pale skin.

“God, you’re _soaked_ ,” Byrne said in a low voice.  “And you still want more, don’t you?  You’re not even close to satisfied yet.”

“Alexandra, please – “

“Callie Cartwig could never have kept up with you,” she told her.  “Callie Cartwig was never going to be enough for you.  She couldn’t give it to you the way you really want it.”  Abby shook her head, eyes pressed tightly closed, trying to shut out the words, but Byrne pressed on.  “The thing you really want?” she hissed.  “The way you really like it?  I know Callie never did that with you.  I was the first one.”

“You were the first one,” Abby agreed in a trembling voice.

“And you want it again like that now.”

“Alexandra, please . . . please, I can’t – “

“Beg me, and I’ll give it to you, Abby, I’ll give it to you over and over again until your body can’t take it anymore and you have to beg me to stop.”

“I . . . “

“All you have to do is beg.”

“Do it,” Abby whispered, her resistance crumbling.  “Please.  Please, Alexandra.  I need it.”

“Say it, Abby.  Ask for it the way I like it.  Say the words the way I like it.”

“I want you to . . . to eat me out.  Please.  Please.”

“That’s more like it,” smiled Byrne, pinching the rosy folds of Abby’s labia just a little too hard, causing a sharp, startled gasp of pleasure, and pulling them wide apart to lay Abby bare before her. 

She didn’t want to still think Abby Griffin was beautiful.  She wanted to hold on – needed to hold on – to all the reasons why she hated her.  _She undermines the Chancellor’s authority,_ a voice whispered inside her head.  _She smuggled weapons out of camp, she contravenes direct orders.  On the Ark, she stole medical supplies.  She_ ’s _a one-woman firestorm.  Anarchy, waiting to happen.  And she’s committed capital offenses for which she should be put to death._

But she also had a rose-pink cunt that glistened like the inside of a seashell and Alexandra Byrne could remember after the passage of twenty years exactly how good it had tasted and a part of her mind forgot, as she leaned in and swept her tongue in a long, slow, gliding lick up Abby’s center, that this was supposed to be Abby's punishment and not her own reward.

“Oh God,” Abby gasped.  “You feel so good.”

Byrne didn’t answer, but took the soft damp folds of Abby’s cunt between her lips and sucked on them lightly until Abby’s entire body contorted with a pleasure so fierce it was almost pain.  “Right there,” Abby panted, “stay right there, oh God, that’s so good, you feel so good.”

Byrne pulled away.  “You don’t give the orders here,” she told Abby.  “Not if you want me to make you come.”

“Alexandra, please – “

But Byrne sat back in the chair with her arms folded, legs spread wide like a man’s, staring Abby down and refusing to budge.  “Beg,” she said flatly.

“Please . . .”

“Beg me harder,” she interrupted her, and she could see a flash of anger in Abby’s eyes, of wounded pride, of that old stubborn resistance rising back up again inside her.  Abby wasn’t going to crack this easily.

Fine, then. 

This was war.

Abby stood still, biting her lip, trying to breathe, her cunt wet and aching, but refusing to speak a word or give Byrne the satisfaction of hearing her beg.  So Byrne decided to up the stakes, unzipping her own jeans.  “What are you doing?” Abby whispered, eyes wide and astonished, unable to look away.

“Exactly what it looks like,” said Byrne, and slid her hand inside the gray cotton panties now visible through the open zipper, hips rocking as she began to stroke herself.

“No, don’t,” Abby pleaded, “God, please, no . . . because if you – but I can’t – “

“If I make myself come, and not you, it will be torture, won’t it?” said Byrne, and Abby nodded weakly.  “Good.”

“Please, Alexandra, please, I have to . . . I need . . .”

Byrne ignored her, spreading her legs wide, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her own clit with practiced skill while Abby stared hungrily, her hips rocking forward instinctively towards something that wasn’t there, her whole body straining to break free.  “Please,” Abby moaned again.  “Please, please.”

Testing her a little, Byrne leaned forward in her chair to rest her forehead against Abby’s hipbone.  Instantly she felt Abby surge forward, desperate, trying to reach her mouth.  She pulled away again and shook her head.  “No,” she said.  “You let me be in charge, or you get nothing.”

“Okay,” Abby agreed.  “Okay.  Please.  I won’t – I won’t do anything – I just . . . _Oh,”_ she cut herself off with a short harsh gasp as Byrne’s tongue found her clit again, and sucked at it hungrily.  “Are you still touching yourself?” Abby asked in a rough whisper, eyes squeezed tightly shut as Byrne lapped at her cunt with heavy, hard flat strokes.

“Mmm,” Byrne sighed in assent, and Abby shivered a little.  Byrne did not make herself come just yet, but took her hand away when she felt herself begin to near the edge.  But she needed both hands for this, to grab Abby’s soft white hips and bury her mouth inside deeper and deeper and deeper.  Abby gasped and trembled and bit her lip to stifle her soft cries as Byrne began slowly, persistently, to edge her to the brink of madness.

An hour went by.  The guards outside changed shifts.  The sun moved in the sky.  And still, Byrne would not let Abby come. If she tried to move forward, to capture more, Byrne pulled away.  If her cries of entreaty became forceful enough to sound like a command, Byrne pulled away.  If she made any forceful move at all, everything would halt.  All she could do, in trembling desperation, was beg and submit.

By the time Byrne finally permitted her to come, Abby was a wreck – panting and shaking and unable to form any words except a soft whimpering refrain of “please, please, please.”  Once she appeared sufficiently shattered, once all the fight had gone out of her, Byrne allowed herself the pleasure of making Abby come, with a force so powerful it was almost violent.  Abby came so hard that she nearly screamed, pressing her mouth closed at the last moment to swallow back the sound, her whole body straining forward against her restraints.  Byrne pulled away for just a moment, to let her cool down, then gripped her trembling thighs and gave Abby’s aching clitoris one last hard suck, which was enough to send Abby tumbling over the edge into a second orgasm that almost blended into the first one.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God,” Abby panted breathlessly.  She was trembling, hardly able to speak or stand, yet as Byrne pulled back, Abby's body strained forward, following her.  Byrne couldn't resist a short, mirthless laugh.

"Christ, you're _insatiable,"_ she said incredulously.  "I don't even like you, and you don’t like me, and still four orgasms aren’t enough for you.  You’re still not satisfied.  You still want more.”

“I . . . “ Abby started to say, then flinched as Byrne’s fingertips grazed through her hot, wet folds, brushing lightly over her painfully sensitive clit.  “I don’t – “

“You don’t want to say it out loud,” whispered Byrne.  “Because it makes you feel dirty, to ask me for it.”

Abby’s thighs quivered and trembled as her bruised wrists strained fruitlessly against their bindings.  Her whole body was beginning to turn liquid and boneless, to collapse in on itself.  She could hardly stand.  Sweat trickled in glittering rivulets down between her breasts and along her temples.  Her breathing was hard and heavy.   “Please,” Abby whispered brokenly.  “Please.”

“No wonder Callie couldn’t give you what you wanted,” Byrne sneered a little.  “No wonder you hated yourself enough that you came to me instead.  You wanted to be a good girl, like Callie was.  You wanted to want it sweet and gentle.  But it wasn’t enough.”

“This isn’t about Callie, this is about you and me,” said Abby, her voice raw.  “Leave Callie out of it.  Leave Jake out of it.  What do _you_ want, Alexandra?  Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m not the one doing it,” she told Abby.  “You are.”  Abby stared, swallowing hard, her eyes dark and guilty. “I told you to say stop if you wanted me to stop,” Byrne whispered, stroking light fingertips through the hot sticky pools of wetness flooding down Abby’s thighs.  “But you haven’t said it yet.  You want more.  You want me to keep going.”  Abby couldn’t speak, her chest rising and falling in desperate gasps.  “You don’t need me to punish you,” Byrne whispered.  “You do just fine on your own.”  She stepped back into the center of the room, looking Abby up and down, feeling a wave of elation at the sight of her – shaking, broken, desperate, aching for something only Byrne could give her.

“This was easier than I thought,” she remarked, causing Abby’s eyes to snap upwards and fix on hers. 

“What was?” Abby asked.  “You still haven’t gotten me to confess.”

“You were never going to confess,” said Byrne.  “I knew that in five minutes.  No, this was to remind you who’s really in control.  This was to make sure you know that you’re no longer invincible, you’re no longer the one calling the shots.  There are always consequences, Abby Griffin.  You are not above the law.” She pulled the shock lash out of her belt and slowly traced the cold metal tip up Abby’s thigh.  “You got off easy,” she said.  “This was the only weapon I was supposed to use on you.”

“I wish you had,” said Abby, a flash of pure anger inside her voice.  “It would have been less cruel than some of those things you said.”

Byrne stood suddenly, moving in closer to Abby, towering over her with the full force of her height and strength, running the tip of the shock lash over the hot, wet mound of Abby’s cunt, feeling her gasp at the sensation, feeling her shift ever-so-slightly toward it.  “You don’t want me to use this on you,” she said to Abby, and it was partly a statement and partly a question.

Abby looked her in the eye for a long moment before she spoke.  “Not the way Kane wants you to,” she agreed in a low voice.  “No, I don’t.”

It hung in the air between them for a long moment, both of them frozen, unable to move.

 “You’re a doctor,” she said softly.  “What would happen, right now, if I turned this on?”

“I would be dead,” Abby whispered. “It would kill me.”

“Yes, it would,” Byrne agreed, and pulled her hand away.  “Better safe than sorry,” she said.  “I should put this away before somebody gets hurt.”

“Don’t,” said Abby before she could stop herself, and Byrne stared.

“Don’t?” she repeated in disbelief.  “Don’t put it away?”

“Alexandra – “

“You _want_ it,” she said, almost accusingly.

“I . . . I can’t . . . “

“You want it like I did it to you before,” Byrne whispered softly, nudging ever so softly at Abby’s cunt with the cool metal tip, and Abby nodded desperately.  “Say it, Abby,” Byrne commanded her.  “If you want me to fuck you, I need you to beg for it.”

“Please, please, please,” Abby whimpered.  “Fuck me like you did before _.  Please.”_

The long, cool metal rod slipped through her soft wet folds and startled a choked gasp out of her as it slid smoothly inside. 

“Oh God,” Abby moaned in pleasure.  “Oh God, oh, please.”

“Is this what you want?” Byrne said in a low voice, stepping in close to Abby, breathing her in, savoring her desperate little gasps as the shock lash slid in deeper and deeper.  She was drenched, and its steel surface was smooth as glass, so it glided it deep with no friction and made Abby’s entire body tremble.  “The way I had you that very first night.  You want me to fuck you like this?”

“Yes,” Abby panted, eyes pressed tightly closed, chest heaving, “yes, yes, yes.”

What she had meant to do – what she had intended to do – was fuck Abby fast and hard, bring her to the edge, and leave her there.  But suddenly, hating herself for it a little, she couldn’t.  Instead she did something that stunned them both.

She tugged the threadbare gray panties down off her own hips, stepped in close to Abby, leaning in so close their foreheads nearly touched, shifted her stance to open her own thighs, and then gently guided the other end of the shock lash inside her own aching cunt.

Abby’s eyes widened in shock.  “Are you,” she whispered, “did you – “

“Fuck me,” whispered Byrne.  “Fuck me and see how it feels.”

Experimentally, Abby rocked her hips forward ever so gently, then gasped aloud as the slim steel rod shot deeper inside her at the same moment that the textured grip of the hilt pushed deeper into Byrne, causing her to murmur a low, desperate _“oh fuck”_ of astonishment, and then neither of them could stop. 

“Oh God, yes, yes, yes,” moaned Abby as Byrne moved in closer and closer, wrapping her arms around Abby’s waist, burying the device deeper inside them.  She closed her eyes, head resting against Abby’s, mouth parted, breathing ragged, muttering harsh, furious refrains of “fuck, fuck, Jesus, fuck” over and over again, her low rough voice a countermelody to Abby’s soft, fluttering, gasping sighs. 

Then the unthinkable happened. 

Abby’s chin tilted up suddenly, sharply, and her soft rosy lips brushed against Byrne’s slack parted mouth, and then suddenly Abby was kissing her, and her whole body felt suddenly warm and alive, and Byrne forgot about everything, she forgot about the kids and the guns and Kane and the Exodus Charter and the guards in the hallway outside because she and Abby were fucking each other and every movement she made was returned back to her like their bodies were joined together as one and Abby’s mouth on hers was soft, persistent, gentle, luring her in, and Byrne gave into it wholly and completely, opening her mouth and kissing her back, and it was like no time had passed at all.

Byrne came first, a volcanic wave of heat passing through her and leaving her spent and trembling, her hard rough grunting cries buried in Abby’s throat to muffle the sound, hips bucking and stuttering as she drove deeper and deeper into Abby, who followed her soon after.  Byrne felt the orgasm coming and seized Abby’s face in hers, kissing her hard and hungry and swallowing up her desperate moans.

For a long time, they just stood there.  Abby’s body softened, her taut thigh muscles slackened and went limp, and the shock lash that they had held between them clattered to the ground, but they paid it no heed.  Byrne held Abby’s small, trembling body in hers, letting the slack on her wrists ease just a little, holding her up as time stood still.

Then, “I wish I could touch you,” Abby murmured in a small voice.  “I wish I could hold you, Alexandra.”

Byrne pulled away so rapidly it was as though Abby’s touch had burned her.

“You mean you want me to let you go,” she said, eyes narrowed, the unexpected rush of warmth and pleasure inside her vanishing as quickly as water extinguishing a candle. 

“No,” said Abby helplessly, “that wasn’t – “

“I can’t believe I fell for it,” Byrne hissed, backing away, pulling her clothes back on with shaking fingers, jaw clenching and unclenching with a tidal wave of anger.  “ _Again._   I fell for it again.  How do you _do_ this to people?”

“I thought you wanted,” Abby began, tears springing to her eyes, “you said you wanted – that it was just – “

“You’re a _witch_ ,” Byrne whispered, “you get _inside_ people, into their heads, under their skin, you turn them inside out, how do you keep _doing_ this to all of us over and over?”

“Alexandra – “

“Major Byrne,” she snapped.  “It’s Major Byrne, from now on.”

She picked up the shock lash from the floor, wiped both ends of it off against Abby’s black cotton underwear, and stuck it back in her holster before pulling out her pocketknife and sawing open the plastic cuffs that bound Abby’s wrists.  “Get yourself together and get outside,” she told her.  “You have three minutes.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What I should have done in the first place,” she said grimly, and stormed out towards the door.

"Major," said Abby in a voice so gentle and full of understanding that it made Byrne's entire body go cold with fury.  "You should have said something.  You should have told me.  I never would have - this time, or last time - I wouldn't have, if I had known that you felt - "

"I don't feel anything," she snapped, but it was too harsh, she couldn't keep the anger from seething out of her voice, she was giving too much away.

"You should have said something," said Abby again, gentle but reproving. 

"I'm not an idiot," Byrne fired back.  "I told you before.  The people who fall for you tend to wind up dead."  Then she stalked out the door and slammed it behind her.


End file.
